A Childhood Lesson in Creative Cursing

On the last day of every school year, we have a tradition: GO GET ICE CREAM! It’s pretty simple. We’ve lived in the same area since the kids started going to elementary school, so we always go to the same ice cream shop on the corner.

This year, I decided to mix things up. WHY THE HELL NOT, RIGHT?

Since early dismissal had me all screwy (still mad about it) on the last three days, serving lunch when they shouldn’t have been, I told the boys if they just skipped lunch and didn’t eat, I’d take them out for a celebratory meal after school and THEN we’d get ice cream, too! Score, right? Nice mommy, right here. Above and beyond the call of parenthood! Celebrate small victories! Or… just celebrate to celebrate, because the end of the school year means 2.5 months of parental hell, YAY!

And what a perfect time to also teach my children something they can really perfect over the course of the summer. Someone has to teach while the teachers recoup for the summer, right? It’s my job, right? To enrich, enlighten, and keep them on track so they begin the school year in the fall with sharp minds ready to learn!

I didn’t think I’d be teaching them immediately upon release on their very last day, but, hey, never a bad time for some education!

For lunch & ice cream, I decided to kill two birds with one stone. WAWA. My kids are obsessed with making their own sandwiches, so while it isn’t exactly a meal fit for celebrating, it’s something they love, and we can grab some cheap ice cream bars at the same place.

I pick them up, announce our Wawa trip to a chorus of “YAY!”s, and we’re on our way. All is right with the world as they punch in their orders (we all get paninis ’cause we’re fancy), pick out some tips, and they both grab a good old fashioned Choco Taco. Yeah, they still make those damn things!

My only qualm is that Wawa is way more expensive than I thought it’d be. $30 for three paninis, 2 choco tacos, and 2 bags of chips? This is highway robbery! I only fume for a few seconds about how we should have gone somewhere else before our sammies are ready and we’re back in the car and on our way home. I’ve learned a lesson for next time. Hey, everyone learns this summer!

Everything is PERFECT, we’re all happy, the smell of hot delicious over-priced paninis has filled the vehicle, and I attempt to get out of the parking lot. I’m stopped by basically a wall of cars. They just don’t stop. They keep going, and going, and going, and I’m confused until one of the kids yells “WHY IS THERE A LIMO?” and I come to the realization that this is a funeral procession. The longest funeral procession I’ve ever seen in my entire life. A king’s funeral procession. The entire damn city has come out for this thing, and they’re all driving down the only road I can exit this Wawa from. I can’t even go the other way, because I’m being blocked by a minivan. I can’t back out and try a different exit, because now there’s someone behind me. I’m stuck behind this stupid minivan with it’s stupid stick figure family stuck to the rear window until this 5,000 car long funeral procession has passed.

It takes a solid 10 minutes.

When I finally manage to get the hell out of the parking lot and pull onto the main road, I find myself stuck in more congestion because OF COURSE the funeral procession is headed the same way I am, and all trying to turn right onto a tiny dirt road with no stop sign or light to help the flow of traffic.

I’ve lived in this area my entire life. I know all the back roads, so the first thing I do is pull off the main road and onto a back road to get away from the traffic and get our food home so that we can feast and rejoice the fact that my children are going to cause 74 more wrinkles to appear on my face this summer. WHAT JOY!

Three miles from my house and I see blinking lights. Many blinking lights. It’s construction equipment, going 10 mph down a two lane road, and zero ability to pass.

It’s at this time I should mention that my car has no air-conditioning. It’s been about 30 minutes we’ve been stuck in the car with choco tacos.

To make a long story short, my kids drank their choco tacos, and when they go back to school calling the slow walking kids who block them in the hallways “Shitass Dickwhistles!”- you have me to thank. It’s all a part of their summer educational program! Road Rage 101.